


you are not alone in this

by the_problem_with_stardust



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Academia, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Geology, Graduate School, Graduate Student Stiles Stilinski, Librarian Derek, M/M, SORRY YALL, Stiles Stilinski Has ADHD, Translation Available, adhd feels, i know i'm surprised too, overuse of vernacular, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-04-25 04:45:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14371188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_problem_with_stardust/pseuds/the_problem_with_stardust
Summary: Stiles patted his pockets for his phone, then frowned. “These aren’t my pants.”Boyd snorted into his pancakes. “Not much gets by you in the mornings, does it?”“Please tell me nobody undressed me.” Unbidden, the memory of attempting a very poorly executed striptease at an undergrad frat party came to mind. Luckily Scott had been there to save Stiles from himself.**7/5/18** currently working on an epilogue, should be posted soon!





	you are not alone in this

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pseudofoucault333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofoucault333/gifts).



> For the prompt: _Stiles has moved to a new university to do his PhD in a specialist subject [The subject of which is up to the writer] and finds himself spending an awful lot of time in the library. There he meets Derek who knows a lot about the subject and the two become close. But just as Stiles has finished his PhD and ready to move on Derek makes a move and begs him to stay. But will he stay and get his happily ever after with Derek or walk away from what could be the best thing in his life?_
> 
> This is dedicated to @pororeindeer, aka the greatest beta to walk the earth. Thank you for everything ♥ ♥ ♥
> 
> ** EDIT 7/5/2018: There is now a Russian translation available [HERE](https://ficbook.net/readfic/6934627) by the amazing @zefirasworld!!

 

“…but you’re saying the signal is more indicative of the Variscan? Because that doesn’t make sense. There aren’t any Variscan aged formations in the area.”

Stiles barely refrained from banging his head against the desk. Repeatedly. He loved his officemates, but they _never stopped talking_. And there was only so much he could hear about detrital zircon dating before he started to lose his goddamn mind.

“Maybe the error’s in your method. Did you account for the possibility of lead loss?”

“Yeah, but lead loss wouldn’t shift the points off concordia like that. Inheritance maybe. But not lead loss.”

That was it. Stiles sighed, tossing his lab notebook and calculator into his backpack and wedging his laptop in behind his reference books. He studied his desk for a moment, trying to remember if he was forgetting anything.

“Hey, Stilinski. You done for the day?”

Stiles slung his backpack over one shoulder and pushed in his chair. “Nah, I’m headed to the library.”

Erica nodded, then turned back to where she and Isaac were pouring over their Tera-Wasserburg diagrams.

Boyd dropped his feet from the desk to the floor. “I’ll come too.”

With a shrug Stiles held the office door open, letting Boyd lead the way. Erica waved over  
her shoulder, still hunched over Isaac’s laptop and Isaac didn’t even glance up from the scribbled equations in his notebook. Geochronologists were fucking strange.

“How’s your semester going?”

Stiles startled. What a weird day. First his advisor announced he was leaving for three months, and now Boyd was starting a conversation.

“It’s alright. I mean, other than the fact that Deaton’s abandoning me to go on a Caribbean cruise.”

Boyd laughed quietly. “You’ll get there someday. Taking all the cruises you want on the university’s dime.”

Being a professor definitely had its perks. Stiles shifted the weight of his pack higher up on his shoulders.

“How’s Greece?”

“Pretty enough to make up for unreliable data.” Boyd treated him to a rare smile. “If all else fails, Erica and I’ll have to go collect more samples. And maybe spend some time at the beach.”

Stiles laughed. “You geologists and your field trips. I’d be jealous, but then I’d have to deal with tourists and landowners.”

“It’s not so bad,” Boyd said, holding open the door to the stairwell. “As long as we aren’t in Texas. Or Virginia for that matter.” He kept his tone joking, but landowners with guns could be a real problem for field geologists.

“Well, trespassing on the open ocean is pretty much a moot point, so…” Stiles trailed off.

“But then you have hurricanes and sea-sickness and absolutely no private time.”

Stiles snorted. Apparently, his officemates did listen when he complained. “Touché.”

They exited the stairwell, almost plowing over Dr. Hale.

Boyd threw out an arm, catching Stiles before he could trip over his own feet. “Hello, Talia.”

“Vernon,” Dr. Hale smiled warmly. “I’ve been meaning to ask you some questions about the Eos trip.”

“Of course. I was just heading to the library, but if you’re free now…?” Boyd squeezed Stiles’ shoulder in a friendly manner before letting go.

Dr. Hale glanced at her phone. “Now would be perfect. But I have a meeting at 4, so we’ll have to make it brief.”

“It shouldn’t take long.” Boyd turned back to Stiles. “Good talking to you, Stilinski. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t.” Stiles watched them go, Boyd towering over his advisor. What a weird day indeed.

The library was silent when he stepped inside. Stiles took in the rows and rows of books, marveling at the fact that he’d probably only been here once. During his mandatory orientation no less. But that was grad school. It kind of ate your entire life.

He shook his head. There was a reason he was here, and it was because he had to finish that goddamn paper before Deaton left the country. Wandering through the stacks, Stiles came across a table tucked underneath a window. Perfect.

Setting up shop always took longer than he expected, but soon enough Stiles was surrounded by aqueous geochemistry books, earmarked and highlighted and covered in hastily jotted notes.

His tablet was propped up against his empty backpack, opened to Deaton’s latest journal article. There were some points in there he wanted to incorporate into his own manuscript.

“Hey.”

Even though the voice was quiet, Stiles jumped so hard he almost fell out of his seat. He looked around, taking in the darkened window. “Oh shit. What time is it?”

“It’s almost 9.”

Stiles turned to face the person speaking and almost fell out of his seat again. Because damn. He blinked a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating the gorgeous man, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry, I got caught up.”

The man smiled, and Stiles’ heart gave a painful lurch. “It happens. I just wanted to make sure you knew that we lock up around 10.”

“I’m just about finished,” Stiles said, mentally running through his work. “Is it okay if I stay?”

“No rush. I’ll come by a little closer to closing time.”

“Thank you so much. I just wanted to finish this damn thing before I go home.” And he was _so close_.

Just tweaking a few sentences to better support his conclusion and possibly expounding a little on his ideas for future work.

A laugh reminded him of the man’s presence. “I definitely don’t miss that feeling. Good luck.”

It seemed like no time had passed at all before Stiles was closing out of the document and hitting send on his email to Deaton. “Fucking finally,” he grumbled, glancing down at the clock. It was 10:15. “Oh shit.”

Shoving his belongings into his backpack, he desperately hoped the gorgeous librarian dude hadn’t locked him in. It wouldn’t be the first night he spent in the geoscience building but he really did try not to make a habit of it. Although the couches in the library’s map section were probably a million times more comfortable than his desk.

“Did you finish?”

Stiles jumped again. “Dude. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Sorry.” The crinkles around the man’s eyes said otherwise. “I thought you heard me walk up.”

And Stiles didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed frozen, eyes wide.

“When was the last time you ate? Or slept for that matter?”

The fact that Stiles had to think this long was probably not a good sign. “I might’ve eaten lunch today? But that could’ve been yesterday.” He stopped. Was it Wednesday or Thursday? Fuck he needed to get his life together.

“Okay. I’m going to lock up and then we’re heading over to that 24-hour diner on Sixth because I cannot let you walk out of here on good conscience.” The man fished a carabiner of keys out of his pocket. “Come with me.”

Stiles followed dumbly as the man flipped off switches and locked the archives room.

Then the man ushered him out into the hall before setting the alarm and locking the final door.

“I’m Derek.”

The man held out his hand.

“Stiles.” He paused, then added, “Stilinski,” as an afterthought.

A flicker of recognition passed over the man – _Derek’s –_ face. “Stilinski as in M.G. Stilinski?”

“The one and only.” Stiles made a mock bow.

“You wrote the paper on chromium speciation in chemically stratified freshwater lakes?”

“Yeah.”

Stiles rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m honestly surprised anyone read that. It’s not exactly interesting stuff.”

“Are you kidding me? The environmental consequences alone are fascinating, not to mention the impact on the local ecology and the food chain.”

Stiles was probably fire engine red. But how else was he supposed to react to someone talking so passionately about his previous research? Even Deaton had a tendency to glaze over when Stiles started talking about living things. One of the problems with being an environmental microbiologist in a geology doctoral program, Stiles supposes. But you gotta go where the funding is.

It took him a moment to realize that Derek was still talking. And they were also walking along the sidewalk in front of the building. Jesus, Stiles needed to sleep.

“…but since the main sources are anthropogenic, what can environmentalists do? Businesses won’t allow stricter regulations on such a common byproduct. Especially when it – by itself anyway – isn’t hazardous unless the right conditions are met.”

Stiles made an affirmative noise. He’d addressed those exact issues during the last presentation he gave. It was at a relatively large school in Michigan with awesome research programs in freshwater ecology and geomicrobiology. Though he wasn’t sure what else he expected, with basically unfettered access to the Great Lakes. Plus, their research station was incredible, located right on the beach of a remote island thirty-some miles from the mainland. Someday he was going to spend a summer there just doing research and soaking in the isolation.

“Stiles.”

“Hmm?”

The night sky there was supposed to be one of the darkest in the country. And late summer was the perfect time to see the Perseids. He could lay out on the beach and watch the meteors burn up in the atmosphere while also having an unobstructed view of the Milky Way. Maybe they needed a post doc. Yeah. That was something he should look into.

“You still with me?”

Stiles jerked out of his daydreams about watching the sun rise over the clear waters of Lake Michigan. “Wha-?”

Derek was looking at him with a worried expression on his face. “Maybe you should sleep first. You seem really out of it.”

Which was of course when Stiles’ stomach made itself known with an angry sounding growl.

With a sigh, Derek held the door open. Because they were already at the diner. Wow.

“Well, well, well.”

The voice was familiar, but it took Stiles a minute to place it.

“Erica,” Derek addressed the voice. And sure enough, Stiles’ officemate was there, holding a stack of placemats. “Could we please sit somewhere before he passes out.”

“Hey!” Stiles said, affronted. But when he stepped forward to follow Erica, he stumbled.

Derek caught his arm, steadying him, and didn’t let go until Stiles collapsed into one side of a cushy red booth.

Almost immediately, a chocolate shake appeared in front of him. Then Erica plonked a cup of coffee in front of Derek and winked at Stiles. “Just a minute and your food will be ready.”

Stiles frowned. Sure, he was tired but, “I didn’t order anything?”

Erica snorted. “Don’t worry about it, water-boy. Perks of being friends with the chef.”

“Boyd,” Derek said, taking in Stiles’ confusion. “He must know what you like.”

Sure enough, a double cheeseburger and a plate of steaming curly fries were set in front of Stiles before he could finish his shake. Erica shoved at Derek’s shoulder until he slid over, allowing her the space to sit. She had a slice of cherry cheesecake and two forks.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Derek asked, his glare unable to hide his fond expression.

Erica rolled her eyes. “Please. You know me and Boyd are only here because Laura begged.”

“Nobody wants to work the graveyard shift. Not even her.” Derek grabbed one of the forks and took a bite of cheesecake. After a moment, he frowned. “Cora’s?”

“Yeah.” Erica pushed the plate more toward the middle. “She’s getting better. You almost can’t tell the difference between hers and your dad’s.”

Derek hummed and took another bite. Meanwhile, Stiles was only half-paying attention to their exchange, instead focusing on inhaling the best burger he’d ever tasted. And he’d tasted a lot of burgers.

A loud scraping sound made Stiles jump. Boyd was pulling a chair up beside Erica, carrying his own piece of cherry pie.

“How’s the manuscript coming?” he asked, breaking off the crust with his fingers.

Stiles shrugged. “It’s in Deaton’s hands now.”

“Still, that was a super shitty thing of him to do. Especially right before you graduate.” Erica swatted Derek’s fork away from the last cherry.

Slumping back into the comfy cushions, Stiles let out a long breath. It wasn’t that Deaton was a terrible person, just that he tended to forget that his decisions also affected the life of his solitary graduate student. At times like this, Stiles longed for the easy camaraderie of a large lab like Hale’s.

He vaguely heard Derek asking what shitty thing Deaton did, but the booth was comfortable and his stomach was finally happy.

\---

Stiles woke up feeling unusually warm. For a moment, he thought he was back at his dad’s. Or somewhere they could afford to keep the heat on this far into the chilly Nor-Cal spring.

“If you’re not up and moving in thirty seconds, I’m going to sit on you.”

The muffled voice jolted him into alertness. Stiles didn’t recognize the bed he was in. Which probably wasn’t a good sign. He hadn’t woken up in an unfamiliar bed since his freshman year welcome weekend. Tequila and new-found freedom were not a good combination.

However, that time he figured out that the oppressive weight on top of him was Scott and they’d accidentally crashed in his roommate’s bed instead of his. This time there was no Scott, just a dark room and very soft sheets.

“Stilinski! I can’t hold her back much longer.”

Stiles rolled to his feet. That voice definitely belonged to one Isaac Lahey and the stream of smothered sounding protests was most likely Erica.

“Can’t you two wait until after coffee?” Boyd grumbled, sounding sleepy and resigned.

Stiles took the interruption as a chance to push open the door.

Isaac had Erica in a headlock but she flipped him easily, letting him land on his back with a thud.

“Stiles! We thought you’d never wake up!” Erica bounced to her feet, looking way too chipper for someone who worked the graveyard shift.

“You literally got up twenty minutes ago,” Isaac said from where he was lying in the middle of the living room. “I would know because the first thing you did was drag me out of bed by the ankle.”

In the kitchen, Boyd snorted. “I’ve told you. The key is not to engage. If you don’t react, she’ll get bored and bother someone else.”

“You two were meant for each other.” Isaac slowly stood up, straightening his stretched out henley and slightly too-short flannel pants.

Erica cooed and batted her eyes while Boyd poured coffee into two mugs. Her face fell in exaggerated disappointment as Boyd swept past her and handed one of the mugs to Stiles.

She sniffed. “It’s too late. The romance is already dead.”

Boyd rolled his eyes, then pressed the second mug into her outstretched hands, dropping a kiss against her temple.

“I spent all night in the kitchen, so you two better come up with something edible for our guest before Derek gets back.”

Erica quirked an eyebrow and Isaac shook his head, the two exchanging an entire conversation with only slight changes in facial expression. All of a sudden, Stiles felt the absence of Scott like a missing limb. Sure, his best friend (and soon to be step-brother) was having a blast doing an internship in Alaska, but Stiles missed being able to text him whenever he had a passing thought. He had to settle for weekly Skype sessions and lengthy emails containing pictures of polar bears and arctic foxes.

It helped that the site coordinator, Dr. Finstock, was probably the right brand of crazy to ward off any hungry critters that might try to make a meal out of an average-sized dude with a crooked jawline and a sunny disposition. Scott would make a good roommate. Unlike his current living situation.

“Wait.” Stiles set down his mug. “Where am I?”

An echoing silence followed the question, then Erica let out a shriek of laughter. It was like a chain reaction, leaving Stiles staring bewilderedly from where Erica and Isaac were doubled over to Boyd, whose head was cradled in his hands, shoulders shaking.

“Are you that used to waking up in stranger’s beds?” Erica asked, wiping tears from her eyes.

“And do they usually cook you breakfast?” Isaac gestured with a spatula. “Because I feel like we’re winning for best hospitality.”

Boyd straightened up, eyes still bright with mirth. “Do you remember yesterday at all?”

“Of course,” Stiles said automatically. But thinking back, there were definitely some blank spots. “I was finishing that stupid paper for Deaton, then Derek was there and he brought me to the diner.”

Boyd nodded, looking toward the other two.

“You should try to take better care of yourself,” Isaac said, eyes fixed firmly on the electric griddle in front of him.

Erica brushed a hand down his arm. “He’s right. We need you around, otherwise we’ll have no idea what kind of poison is in our drinking water.”

“Oh come on.” The argument dated back to the first week of the year when they were just getting to know each other after The Great Office Shuffle. “That was just me telling you that you _need_ to purify your water when you’re in the field. There’s no such thing as a ‘pure’ mountain stream.”

Boyd cut them off before they could get into it again. “To answer your question, Stilinski, you are currently in our apartment.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Good to know you all didn’t break in here just to harass me then.”

Isaac snorted. “Just be glad Derek let you have his bed. Otherwise you’d have woken up to Erica drawing dicks on your face.”

“That was one time!”

“It was permanent marker! I had class pictures the next day!”

Boyd sighed, getting up to flip the remaining pancakes off of the griddle. He moved the loaded plate to the table and set it down next to the syrup.

“Derek just texted to say he was heading straight to work from the gym. And those hooligans will be rehashing junior high for the rest of the day.” He grabbed a stack of pancakes and flashed a crooked smile. “Dig in.”

Despite the chaotic nature of the whole ordeal, the pancakes tasted incredible. Stiles polished off his first serving in no time at all, but halfway through his seconds remembered that he was waiting for Deaton to send him revisions. Both on the draft of his dissertation and the paper he’d submitted the night before, but he doubted Deaton had even looked at that email yet.

He patted his pockets for his phone, then frowned. “These aren’t my pants.”

Boyd snorted into his pancakes. “Not much gets by you in the mornings, does it?”

“Please tell me nobody undressed me.” Unbidden, the memory of attempting a very poorly executed striptease at an undergrad frat party came to mind. Luckily Scott had been there to save Stiles from himself.

Erica dropped down into the seat beside him. “Derek let you borrow his clothes and you changed in the bathroom.”

“You looked like a total zombie though,” Isaac said, piling pancakes onto his plate. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

Stiles let out a slow breath. That was good at least. And his officemates seemed like pretty solid people.

“Oh shit, I bet you’re looking for your phone.” Boyd got up and disappeared into Derek’s room, emerging seconds later with Stiles’ phone still connected to the charger. “I hope you don’t mind, but we grabbed the charger from your bag so it wouldn’t be dead when you woke up.”

“You are a god amongst men, Vernon Boyd,” Stiles said, scrolling through his notifications.

He didn’t have to glance up from his phone to know that Boyd’s face had done the full name scrunch. It was a look Stiles was quite familiar with, especially when it came to family gatherings.

Once he was satisfied that the world hadn’t ended while he was comatose, Stiles got to his feet. “I should probably head out. Deaton’s gone so the lab needs at least _some_ supervision.”

Erica looked scandalized. “But it’s _Friday_.”

Laughing quietly, Boyd started gathering up the scattered dishes. “You have been known to spend entire weekends in the lab, love.”

Erica kissed his cheek, scrubbing at a bit of syrup with her thumb.

“Sorry, but I’m with Erica on this. Days after the night shift aren’t lab days.” Isaac reached for the pile, obviously accepting dish duty in place of chauffeuring Stiles back to his apartment.

Snagging his backpack from the floor beside the couch, Erica hesitated. “Did Derek remember to bring his dinner?”

Boyd stuck his head into the fridge, pulling out a bright pink lunch bag. “I wasn’t going to stop by campus, but I can take it to him.”

“I’ve got it,” Stiles spoke up from where he was checking to make sure someone (maybe even him who knows) had stuffed his clothes into his backpack.

Isaac turned from the sink, a stray bubble caught in his hair. “Really?”

“Yeah, no problem. I should say thanks for letting me borrow his bed for the night.” Stiles stuffed his feet into his shoes, giving the living room one last look. He didn’t remember most of his time in the apartment, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t leaving things behind.

Boyd tugged on his coat and grabbed his keys off the hook by the door. “That is fine by me.”

“And don’t let that gruff exterior fool you,” Erica called after them. “He likes caramel macchiatos.”

\---

After showering and changing into his own clothes, Stiles packed up his lab stuff and unearthed his bus pass. The bright pink lunch bag attracted a few odd looks on his commute, but he doubted he was anywhere close to being the most interesting thing to look at. That was one perks of living near a college campus. There was always someone weirder.

Fridays were one of the few days Stiles used the actual front entrance to the building. Usually, he just let himself in through the loading docks. They were closer to Deaton’s lab anyway. But he allowed himself one lazy day a week to show up after the building was officially open. And using the actual entrance meant he was greeted with the smell of fresh coffee.

“You’re late today.” Cora Hale hopped down from the café counter. “Busy night?”

Stiles grinned, always happy to see the dean’s daughter. “Yeah, I had a paper to get to Deaton before he left.”

“Off on a cruise?” Cora asked, maneuvering around the machines effortlessly.

“Yup.” Stiles was starting to wish his advisor had taken him along, just to avoid the questions. “How’s your exhibit coming together?”

She shrugged, snapping a plastic lid in place. “It’s getting there. I’ve got a couple more pieces to complete.”

“And you leave for Oslo…?” Stiles trailed off, not sure if they’d talked about the timeframe during their weekly coffee exchange.

“In three weeks.” Cora slid his finished drink across the counter and tapped a few buttons on the register. “And just the coffee?”

“Wait,” he’d almost forgotten Derek’s drink. “Do you know Derek? Erica told me what he usually orders but I didn’t write it down.”

“Derek?” Cora’s eyebrows looked like they were trying to climb off of her forehead.

Stiles immediately felt shitty about asking. Expecting a service worker to remember your usual wasn’t cool. And expecting them to know someone else’s usual seemed double uncool.

“Yeah, the librarian guy. Tall, scary eyebrows, hotter than the sun?” He waved the ostentatious lunch bag clutched in the hand not holding his coffee. “Forgets his dinner in the fridge?”

Cora stared at him for a moment, then set about making another drink.

When she finished, Stiles shuffled around the lunch box so he could hold Derek’s coffee cup in his newly freed hand. “Oh shit.” He forgot to pay.

As if reading his mind, Cora waved him off. “This one’s on me, loser. And for future reference, it’s a caramel macchiato.”

“Thanks, I owe you. See you next week.”

Stiles hesitated, then headed toward the elevators. It was probably best to avoid door handles while his hands were full of hot beverages. When he reached the fourth floor it was silent, the lighting already dimmed for the weekend. The library was a bright spot at the end of the corridor, glass doors spilling light onto the floor.

Elbowing the door opener, Stiles did a mental fist pump. He made it and didn’t even spill anything on himself.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Derek called from the archives room.

Stiles set the coffee cups on the counter, followed by Derek’s lunch bag. “Take your time.”

Unfortunately, the reassurance had the opposite effect. “Stiles?” There was a shuffling noise, like Derek was dragging boxes of the way so he could stick his head out the door.

“Uh, I’m alive?” Stiles awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. “Thanks for looking out for me yesterday. I probably would’ve gotten on the wrong bus and ended up in Seattle.”

Derek huffed a quiet laugh, then noticed the lunch bag. “Consider it a trade. Since you just saved me from having to work late and skip dinner.”

“It was no trouble. I’ve got samples running in the lab that I need to check on.”

“Well, thanks regardless.” Derek grabbed the bag and disappeared through a different door. Possibly leading to his office. Or maybe to the breakroom. Stiles had no idea.

He braced his elbows on the counter, letting his head rest against his shoulder. The library was so quiet, all he could hear was his own breathing.

“Maybe you should go back to bed.”

Stiles jumped, gripping his coffee tightly. “Why are you like this?”

“Sorry,” Derek said, but his eyebrows were definitely laughing at Stiles. “Maybe I’ll start wearing a bell.”

Stiles grumbled under his breath, shoving the second coffee across the counter.

Derek looked confused. “Is this mine?”

“No, I just want you to hold it for me.” Stiles mentally punched himself for the sarcasm. He was trying to get this guy to like him.  

But Derek didn’t look offended, taking a cautious sip before smiling. “Did Cora tell you?”

“Yeah. I mean she’s the one who remembers _my_ usual, otherwise I’d probably just order something random every time and then be annoyed when I didn’t like it.”

Which reminded him to slip off the cardboard sleeve and twist the cup around until he found what he was looking for. A cartoon dinosaur with a speech bubble that read **STILES** in Cora’s neat hand. He grinned stupidly at the drawing and snapped a picture on his phone, saving it to his _cora’s creative coffee cartoons_ album. Not his greatest use of alliteration, but Cora had actually laughed out loud when he showed her the collection.

Derek watched the proceeding curiously. “Does she draw things for everyone?”

“I’m not sure. I only stop by on Friday afternoons when it’s super slow, so I think she does it as entertainment while we talk?”

“Huh.” Derek toyed with his cup for a second, then slid off his sleeve as well.

Stiles craned his neck to see an extremely grumpy looking face with exaggerated eyebrows staring up at him. He almost started laughing, but then he caught sight of the words written beside the face.

**DEREK THE LIBRARIAN GUY**

**TALL, SCARY EYEBROWS**

**HOTTER THAN THE SUN**

“Alright, I gotta go there’s a… uh, _thing_. In the lab. Yup. Definitely an important thing. Have a good night, Derek.” Stiles booked it out into the darkened hall before getting a response.

 

\---

If Stiles avoided every person that he behaved awkwardly around, he’d be living alone on a deserted island. Which meant Monday morning, he manned up and folded Derek’s freshly laundered clothes into a bag to return.

Derek smiled when he walked through the library doors and didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable. In fact, he asked about Stiles’ day which eventually led to Stiles dragging out his laptop to show off some of the figures he was working on, figuring a research librarian could be a valuable resource.

Sure enough, Derek had several suggestions, even going so far as to sketch diagrams on scrap paper from the recycling bin. Stiles ended up staying past closing time again because they were so caught up in the unusual signal in one of his sample areas.

After that, their late-night study sessions became a regular occurrence. Stiles would carry out his normal routine, eat dinner, and then around eight or so would wander into the library and spend the next four hours harassing Derek. Well, mainly just talking to Derek because he didn’t seem to mind Stiles’ presence at all.

Honestly, how was Stiles supposed to _not_ fall in love with the guy? He listened when Stiles rambled about chemical kinetics and concentration calculations and was always willing to bounce ideas for Stiles’ dissertation. Plus he was secretly sassy and genuinely hilarious. His dry sarcasm played well off of Stiles’ sharp wit and it was impossible to differentiate between bantering and flirting anymore.

It seemed almost inevitable when Stiles finally convinced himself (with the help of Erica and Isaac) to ask Derek out. They’d been having their ‘study dates’ as Erica labeled them for almost two months and Stiles was starting to get sick of his officemates’ teasing.

“Would you be interested in going to dinner sometime?” Stiles asked. “As a date?”

Of all the reactions Stiles had anticipated, Derek looking utterly devastated was not one he was prepared for.

“Or not? We could forget this happened.” Stiles spoke right over the disappointment crushing his internal organs. “I’ll just go back to my office and you won’t have to see me again.”

“Stiles?”

Hearing his name, Stiles turned from where he was trying to gather up his things as quickly as possible.

“Please don’t go.”

Confused, Stiles set his stack of books back on the counter and slumped into the chair that he’d claimed as his own.

Derek pinned him down with an earnest gaze. “This isn’t about you, okay? You are incredible. Smart, funny, thoughtful, caring, attractive,” he dropped his eyes to the countertop. “I’m just not in a dating place right now. My last relationship… was… Well, horrible doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Leaning forward in his chair, Stiles sighed. “I’m sorry I put you in this position.”

“I’d like to be friends,” Derek said, hesitantly. “If that’s okay with you.”

Stiles nodded. “Absolutely. Just let me know if I make you uncomfortable.”

Friends. He could do friends. And squash his crush like an elephant-sized bug. No problem.

\---

Stiles was halfway through his lecture about molybdenum speciation as a potential indicator of oxidation records in ancient time when Derek’s alarm went off, signaling that his shift was done for the night. Which meant Stiles had been yapping for almost an hour.

“Sorry.” Stiles tugged at a loose string on his cuff, feeling self-conscious. “Feel free to tell me to shut up at any point.”

“Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the diner and continue this conversation,” Derek said, before gently adding, “don’t apologize for being excited about something. I want to hear what you have to say.”

Struck speechless for once in his life, Stiles stared after Derek as he left to make a quick round of the library before locking up. Moments like that left him feeling off-balance. Because when he was the sole recipient of Derek’s attention, Stiles felt important in a way that was different from a normal friendship.

Shaking his head to clear away the nonsense, Stiles hopped down from the reference counter. He patted down his legs, running through his mental checklist: phone in front pocket, wallet in back pocket, keys clipped to belt loop. Everything else was locked in his lab cabinet and he wouldn’t need any of it until the morning.

Derek emerged from the stacks seconds later, grabbing his bag from the foot of the chair he’d been sitting at. Stiles smiled at the sliver of bright pink visible under the flap.

“You ready?”

Stiles nodded, following Derek out the door.

The spring air was warm against Stiles’ skin and he took a moment to soak in the beautiful evening. A few stars even managed to break through the light pollution, making Stiles feel homesick for Beacon Hills.

Stiles turned to Derek, planning on commenting some random fact about light pollution but the words froze on his tongue. Because Derek was wearing an expression that mirrored Stiles’ own. But while Stiles was admiring the sky, Derek was admiring Stiles. Talk about mixed signals.

“So, where did I leave off?” Stiles figured he could talk now, freak out later.

By the time they reached the diner, the weird moment was forgotten, and Stiles was debating the pros and cons of different analyses types. With himself. He only stopped when he saw Derek freeze in the doorway behind him, eyes fixed on the woman at the hostess station.

She just stared back, an unsettling smirk on her lips. Stiles looked between the two, trying to figure out what kind of dispute he happened to be standing _right in the middle of_.

“I thought Boyd and Erica were on for tonight.” Derek finally stepped the rest of the way into the restaurant.

The woman’s smirk widened. “Nope. You get the real family experience tonight.” She led them to the same booth

“Dad’s here too?” Derek squinted toward the kitchen, as if he could see through the wall by trying hard enough.

Stiles’ brain kicked into overdrive. The woman had a name tag that said **LAURA** in familiar blocky handwriting. Cora had an older sister named Laura. Cora Hale. Talia Hale. Laura Hale.

Which meant, “oh my god, you’re _Derek Hale_.” Stiles could kick himself. No wonder Derek didn’t mind his rambling. It was all stuff he was interested in too, although he’d gotten his degree from the environmental engineering department rather than geology. Because it was all about the funding.

Derek frowned. “Stiles. It’s been almost four months. You work for my former co-advisor. You’ve quoted directly from my papers.”

“Sorry, just… I can be slow on the uptake sometimes.” Stiles winced. “Especially when the connections get messed up at first.”

The way Derek was looking at him, slightly betrayed and a lot put out, had Stiles nervously shredding a napkin with shaky hands.

“My best friend likes to call me the dumbest smart person in the world.” Stiles tried to force some levity into his tone, but _fuck_. Most of the time he could forget that his ADHD wasn’t technically ‘cured,’ but the times that he remembered were like having his entire world upended.

Luckily he was saved from awkward silence by the reappearance of Laura. “What can I get you to drink?”

Stiles managed to order a shake but didn’t catch anything that Derek said after him. He was contemplating fleeing to the bathroom when his twitching fingers were covered by warm, callused ones.

“Hey,” Derek gently tightened his grip, waiting for Stiles to meet his eyes. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just overreacted.”

Letting out a wobbly sigh, Stiles nodded. He closed his eyes for a second, letting Derek’s touch ground him. “Sorry, I just get frustrated with myself.” The admission was quiet, something that Stiles rarely even acknowledged in his own head.

Derek didn’t let go of his hands, just filled the quiet with anecdotes about his decision to get a second master’s degree (in library science) so he could read papers for the rest of his life. By the time Laura emerged from the kitchen with their shakes and fries, Stiles felt almost normal again, laughing at a story about Derek answering reference calls at the university’s library and googling things for people who easily could have googled the answer themselves.

\---

Stiles walked into his office and immediately rolled his eyes at the rocks on his desk.

“Erica! We talked about this.”

Across the room, Erica turned from her laptop. “Not my rocks, not my problem.”

Grumbling under his breath, Stiles heaved the offending bucket off of his workspace and hesitated before depositing it directly onto Isaac’s chair. The rocks were probably his anyway.

After the bucket was taken care of and the residual dust brushed onto the floor, Stiles pulled out his laptop and external hard drive. It was strange not to have a mountain of papers and reference books, but his dissertation was basically finished. Now he was waiting for Deaton’s approval to submit it to his committee.

“Have you heard back from anybody yet?” Erica asked, spinning her chair in slow circles.

Stiles sighed. He had applied for several postdocs, three industry jobs, and an academic position but so far hadn’t received responses. “Nope. Not yet. But I think I’m supposed to hear about one of the postdocs sometime this week?”

She stopped abruptly. “The Michigan one?”

“Yeah. The Michigan one.” So maybe Stiles talked about that one a lot. But in his defense, he would have access to awesome field areas _and_ only be an hour away from the vet school Scott was attending in the fall. Not that it played a big role in his decision, but it’d be nice to see his stepbrother once in a while.

Erica jumped up, sending her chair careening backward into her desk. “When was the last time you checked your email?”

“On the bus,” Stiles said, already pulling up the page on his phone.

Erica hovered over him, leaning against his desk as they both watched the loading icon with bated breath.

“Shit.” Stiles shoved the phone into Erica’s hand. “You owe me.”

She huffed a laugh. Whenever she got an important email, whether it be about a grant or a symposium or a publication, she’d make someone else read it. And by someone else she usually meant Boyd. And in the absence of Boyd, the task fell to Stiles.

“Yup, you’ve got one from their Earth and Planetary Sciences.” Erica clicked the link and scrolled down.

Stiles could see his knuckles growing pale from clenching the edge of the desk. He took a breath, exhaling right as Erica grabbed his shoulder.

“You’re in! And they’re even giving you a pay raise.”

It took a moment for the words to really sink in, then Stiles was out of his chair, catching Erica as she flung her arms around his neck.

“What the hell?”

Erica reached her arm out and pulled Isaac into the tangle of limbs before he could protest. Boyd just smiled fondly at them and shook his head.

“I take it you got into the Great Lakes Research Institute?”

Stiles grinned at him through a mass of blonde hair. “Yeah, I did.”

“You might want to tell Derek,” Isaac said, loosening his hold on the two shorter people.

Stiles bounced on the balls of his feet, excitement still thrumming through his veins. “I’ll be right back.”

He took off at a dead sprint down the hall, flinging himself into the stairwell. Dean Hale was standing on the landing below, probably on her way to visit her students, but she stepped to the side with a smile.

Stiles smiled back, thundering down the stairs and skipping the last three. When he burst into the library, his breathing was harsh, and he knew his grin probably looked manic.

“Derek!”

On the other side of the reference counter, Derek set down a stack of encyclopedias. “Stiles?”

“I got the Michigan postdoc!” He slumped onto his elbows, leaning halfway over the counter.

Derek picked at the cover of the topmost encyclopedia. “That’s… That’s really great. Congratulations Stiles. You deserve it.”

But Stiles could feel his mood already dimming. “What’s wrong?” He’d expected a hug, or at the very least one of Derek’s proud smiles.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said, looking contrite. “I have some personal things going on. I didn’t mean to rain on your parade.”

Stiles frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Derek made a vague gesture encompassing his surroundings, the library, or maybe the entire universe. It was hard to say. “I’m dealing with it.”

That statement definitely sent alarm bells ringing in Stiles’ head. “Well, if you need someone to talk to, you have my number.”

“I do.” Derek shuffled the stack in front of him before meeting Stiles’ eyes. “I’m happy for you.”

Stiles nodded. “Right. Okay. I guess I’ll leave you to it?”

The smile he got in return didn’t reach Derek’s eyes. Stiles left the library feeling oddly bereft.

\---

Graduation was much more exciting the third time around. Probably because there weren’t 6,000 students waiting to get their fake diploma and take pictures in their ugly gowns. Although the fact that the PhD robes looked like they could belong to an extremely eccentric wizard helped too.

Deaton even found an opportunity to fly back for the weekend so he could place the ceremonial hood on Stiles’ head and shake his hand.

By the time Stiles tumbled out the doors and onto the lawn, he felt like he was on top of the world. His cheeks hurt from grinning and the sun was warm on his face. While scanning the crowd for Scott, Melissa, and his Dad, his eyes landed on a familiar knot of people.

“Stiles!” Erica sprinted toward him, trusting him to catch her as she jumped. And Stiles did, lifting her right off the ground and spinning in a circle.

The others followed at a more sedate pace.

“The office is sure gonna be quiet next year,” Isaac said, his expression carefully measured.

Stiles grabbed the pocket of his hoodie and dragged him in. “Office group hug. Right now.”

Boyd stepped in without prompting and for the first time all week, Stiles felt like he might actually tear up. “I’m really gonna miss you guys.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with us.” Erica poked him in the cheek for emphasis. “Weekly updates at the minimum. I wanna hear all about the gross stuff you find.”

“Same goes for you guys. Keep me in the loop, okay?” Stiles felt a head nod against his shoulder. From the height, he guessed it was Boyd.

They probably would have stayed like that until Scott came to drag him away, but Derek interrupted the moment.

“Could I have a minute with Stiles?”

After one more round of parting hugs, Boyd turned to Derek. “We’ll be by the car.”

Derek jerked his chin in acknowledgement, then squared his shoulders. Stiles just stared at him, unsure what was happening. He looked like he was preparing to face a firing squad.

“Hey, I’m sure – ”

“I think you should stay,” Derek blurted, “Here.”

“I…” Stiles trailed off. “What the hell, Derek.”

“Deaton always said he wanted a postdoc to work with and I’m sure he’d be thrilled to have you.”

Stiles blinked, unsure if he’d heard correctly. “You want me to give up an opportunity I’ve spent the last _six years_ working toward to what? Stay here? Work for Deaton? Newsflash Derek, _I already did that_.”

“Please.” Derek took a step closer, locking his gaze on Stiles’ face. “Please stay. For me.”

“Fuck you!” Stiles could feel himself shaking. “You have no right to ask me that. Hell, _you_ turned _me_ down.”

“I turned you down because I didn’t know you!”

They were starting to make a scene. Stiles could see his dad and Scott shooting worried looks his way. He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “Then what about after you did?”

“You-,” Derek’s eyes flicked away, making him look like a spooked animal. “You didn’t ask again.”

Stiles barely refrained from doing something dramatic, like throwing his hood in Derek’s stupidly handsome face. “I know what ‘no’ means Derek. Why would I ask again?”

“I’m sorry.” The shift in Derek’s expression from vulnerable to aloof left Stiles reeling. He cleared his throat and nodded sharply. “Congratulations, Mr. Stilinski. I wish you all the best.”

Stiles didn’t turn to watch him go, his feet rooted to the concrete as the world spun on. It came as a shock when someone grabbed hold of his shoulders, anchoring him to the ground.

“Hey.” Scott was right in his face. “Stiles? Stiles, talk to me.”

After opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Stiles shrugged. “That was Derek.”

Scott stayed silent, keeping a firm grip on Stiles’ shoulders as he gave him time to sort himself out.

It took Stiles several agonizing minutes of focusing on his breathing for the shaking to stop, taking the anger with it. Then he was left feeling empty and wrung out.

Stiles sighed deeply, sagging into Scott’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he breathed, letting Scott pull him in for a hug.

“It’s okay,” Scott said, clinging to him tight enough that Stiles no longer felt like he was going to shatter. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be just fine.”

And Scott was right. Stiles shouldn’t give up his dreams for a guy who couldn’t even ask him out until the day before he was supposed to move across the country. That was a catastrophe waiting to happen. He would’ve regretted the decision immediately and then ended up hating Derek for it in the long run. Yet, there was still a traitorous part of him that longed to stay.

\---

The postdoc position somehow managed to be even more perfect than Stiles could’ve imagined. Upon his arrival to ‘The Island,’ as it was called by both visitors and locals alike, Stiles threw himself headfirst into his research. The incredible diversity in the island’s lakes and wetlands made it the perfect location to carry out comparison studies.

Stiles spent his time collecting samples and trying to forget about Derek Hale. He kayaked across the still surface of a dystrophic lake, the water stained a deep red by the tannic acid from a nearby bog mat and the silence only disturbed by the haunting call of a loon. A weekend was devoted to sampling the oxygen levels of different water depths in the deepest lake on the island.  

But Stiles’ favorite days were the ones he got to spend on the station’s research vessel. There was something freeing about being out on the vast lake with the closest land mass only a smudge on the horizon. He teamed up with various other researchers to investigate bodies of water on remote, uninhabited islands and even spent a week sleeping in a tent beneath the dazzling sky.

Months slipped by while Stiles devoted hours upon hours to walking along the beach and staying up late to look at the stars. Sometimes even so late, he could watch dawn paint the lake in shades of purple and blue that eventually bled into fiery pinks and oranges.

The food was great and the coffee even better. Stiles grew accustomed to stopping by the kitchen whenever he was bumming around the station to snag some caffeine and whatever type of baked good that was left over from lunch. He could go days without speaking to anyone, which turned out to be both a blessing and a curse.

After the third manuscript Stiles sent to Deaton for review, his former advisor responded with an email begging Stiles to enjoy his research time (and to stop giving him more work). But the isolation created a perfect distraction-free environment for writing.

There was no phone service around the station, so once a week Stiles caught a ride with someone into ‘town,’ which consisted of three buildings and a grocery store. Once he found a strong enough signal, he’d call his dad. Everyone else he just messaged using wifi.

On one such trip, Stiles unlocked his phone to find a missed phone call from Derek Hale.

“What the hell.” He stared at the name in disbelief, thumb hovering over the play icon.

A shadow fell over his phone. “What’s up?

Stiles sighed, sliding over to make room on the dock beside him. “Just bad memories, y’know?”

“Is it the guy?” Kira, his cabinmate (and future roomie, hell yeah!) made a face. “Just delete it. He’s not worth it.”

Right. Stiles hit the tiny trash can symbol and watched the message box disappear. He was supposed to be moving on after all.

 “I can’t believe he had the nerve to call.” Kira kicked her feet, the tips of her shoes barely brushing the water. “What a dick.”

Stiles snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time talking to Scott.”

The two had hit it off over skype, since Stiles felt weird about leaving Kira out the first time Scott called and she was in the cabin. Plus, it proved that he was making friends that weren’t obsessed with zircon and U-Pb dating. The fact that Scott and Kira seemed perfect for each other was an added bonus as well.

Kira ducked her head at his teasing, cheeks going rosy. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Stiles winked at her and hopped to his feet. “Want to go buy out the entire island’s supply of Pringles?”

She took his offered hand with a grin. “You mean again? At some point, the owners are going to ban us altogether.”

Stiles threw his head back and laughed, all thoughts of Derek and nebulous what-ifs gone from his mind.

\---

Unfortunately, the calls kept coming; sometimes even as many as three in a week. Stiles deleted every voicemail, wondering if he was being immature. He decided to write it off as a side-effect of having his heart broken. But try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to block Derek’s number.

Eventually, summer came to an end and Stiles had to pack up his samples and clear out his cabin. Winter on the island was not for the faint of heart. Stiles doubted his Californian ass would even last a day. Plus there was an awesome lab waiting for him at a research campus on the mainland.

“I’m gonna miss it.”

Stiles tore his eyes away from where he was watching the lighthouse disappear from view. “Me too. But we’ll be back in the summer.”

“Definitely.” Kira brightened. “And maybe Scott can visit.”

The sound of the ferry’s horn was loud enough to drown out Stiles’ laugh and rattle his teeth. “Good luck getting him onto this boat.”

Kira smiled sweetly at him, a gentle reminder that she had put their whole group to shame on their ill-advised wilderness adventure. “I have my ways.”

Two hours later, they were still standing against the ship’s railing, the wind biting at their faces.

“Is that him?” Kira bounced up and down, pointing at a figure waiting at the docks.

Stiles caught her arm. “Let’s try to stay on the boat this time.”

The glare Stiles received in response would have slain a weaker man. But he still held firmly to his side of that particular story. The side that left him mostly innocent of capsizing their canoe on one of their last outings. There were leeches. Kira _really_ wasn’t impressed.

Stiles barely made it onto dry land before he was being crushed in a bear hug. “Scotty. Some of us still gotta breathe.”

“Sorry,” Scott said, but he didn’t loosen his hold. “I missed you so much.”

“Well lucky for you, I think you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me.” Stiles pulled back, then remembered. “Where are my manners? Kira, Scott; Scott, Kira.”

Their synchronized eye roll sent Stiles collapsing into helpless gales of laughter.

\---

Stiles was surprised at first by how small and rural the town was. But the tiny two-bedroom apartment he shared with Kira was located directly across the street from their labs, meaning he rarely ventured to main campus. If anything, the two of them packed up and made the hour-long journey to visit Scott.

In fact, it wasn’t until almost November that Stiles even made it to the library. Once there, he wondered why he didn’t spend all of his time in the beautiful space. He wandered the stacks looking for a specific taxonomy book for some probably unnecessary research.

Pausing for a moment, Stiles ran his eyes across the geology section. A thick blue book screamed something about thermochronology and Stiles made a mental note to skype Erica again to check in on her project. They had weekly coffee dates. Sometimes Boyd and Isaac were there too. Stiles was glad to have made friends, even if they weren’t really in his field.

Distracted by thoughts of the past, he didn’t notice the person standing behind him until he backed right into something solid.

“Oh man, I am so…” Stiles froze, staring.

“Um.” Derek looked incredibly nervous. “Hi.”

Stiles blinked several times, sure he was hallucinating. “You’re in Michigan.”

“I am.”

“When? How? Why?” Stiles had no idea which question he wanted answered first.

Crossing his arms, Derek shrugged. “They needed a science librarian.”

“So you figured… what? That you’d move all the way across the country to the literal middle of nowhere on the off chance that I’d be swept away by the gesture and follow you back to California?”

Derek was shaking his head long before Stiles reached the end of his question. “That’s not what I want.”

“Oooookay.” Stiles tilted his head and squinted. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that, big guy.”

“I wanted to do this the right way.” Derek’s eyes were fixed somewhere over Stiles’ left shoulder. It was impossible to get a read on his emotions.

“What does that mean?”

With a sigh, Derek uncrossed his arms. “You were right. I was out of line to ask you to stay. Erica and Isaac tore me a new one.”

“What about Boyd?”

“Boyd just told me I fucked up.” The memory made Derek grimace.

Stiles nodded. He’d take that. “And that’s why you kept calling.”

Derek shrugged again, sticking his hands in his pockets like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. “I wanted to apologize. I am very sorry about how I handled everything.”

Stiles ran a hand over his face. “But where do we go from here, Derek?”

“I was thinking maybe we could go for coffee?” Derek’s eyes widened. “I mean, not here. The coffee here is terrible.”

“As a date?”

“As a date,” Derek said, voice resolute.

“Yeah.” Stiles returned his hopeful smile with one of his own. “I can do coffee.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> conversation between @pororeindeer and myself:
> 
> J: maybe have an epilogue? maybe just stop?
> 
> M: an epilogue would be amazing but not really that necessary. We all know that they live happily ever after and spend HOURS making out between the stacks because Stiles can't keep his hands to himself while Derek is putting back books in the shelves, so even if you ended it here like this it would still be really good!!
> 
> J: oH nO... *is already imagining said epilogue*
> 
> rebloggable version (and edit) will be added after the reveal :D
> 
> EDIT: on tumblr [HERE](https://theproblemwithstardust.tumblr.com/post/174347458628/you-are-not-alone-in-this-stiles-patted-his)


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